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Dead Bulb Count: 16 Days
#MilWordy Update: 42,842 words
Well, I saw my circle of friends today, even if it was at a distance and in lawn chairs. It was fun to actually talk to people without a screen in the way. It makes reading body posture and reactions a lot easier, even if we were all masked up.
The weather has changed and it’s now actual long-sleeve weather outside. Although, if I dress for outside, I’ll broil inside at work. The light has changed too. It’s sharper now, more clear as you drive along. The leaves haven’t started to shift yet, but I can see them yearning to do so. The road I took today was covered with a canopy of leaves and the light flittered in and out between them as I went. It was at that awkward driving angle, where the light is just in your eyes and no hat or sunshade or sunglasses will truly make it not an issue. Some people seem to think that it’s the light itself that makes everything sepia toned in the fall, but I think it’s more of the sun’s angle makes my brain kick in with the perception filters.
I love the sharpness of fall light. Maybe it’s the lack of humidity in the air. Maybe it’s the angles of refraction. Maybe it’s just that my brain is more excitable in the fall season, but it’s here and screw pumpkin spice, I want to sit and paint the world. Not the great sweeping vistas of landscapes, but the tight focus on the geese which are starting to congregate, or the happy little flock of sparrows that was on the railing outside of work and didn’t bother to fly away when I walked by, secure in their numbers and that I was not a threat. The baby grasshoppers that were hopping around the stairs at work are now full grown and no longer neon green. The air is cleaner, even though I know that it’s my high season and the masks are saving my lungs.
I want to dance and play in piles of dead leaves. I want to pretend my friends and I are spies, using the leaves as camouflage as we use old ftizted out walkie-talkies to make codes and practice the morse that’s printed on the front of the case. I want to climb up the side of the building and jump down on knees that don’t hurt. And I want to play with the kittens which will never be mine, letting them crawl up my shoulder and snuggle into my arms. It’s an idyllic memory of being a child, wrapped in the nostalgia of the new school year and the creeping edges of summer bleeding into fall before the bitter winds of winter come in. Winter is it’s own beauty and majesty. But fall has Halloween and Thanksgiving. It has bonfires and spiced cider and crisp apples.
And I need to get this post out today, so I’ll close with a quiet wish for happy fall memories to bless you all.